Chapter Forty-Four
Caris and the others bobbed swift curtseys before leaving the Queen.
They had their orders and their target. Calm settled over Caris; it was good to have a clear and concise goal. It brought a strange clarity to her world.
In perfect unity, they turned to one another, clustering as handmaidens do on being released from duties, as if giggling over a lover, or a hairstyle—
—Or planning a death.
“Most like in his tower, at this hour,” Nora murmured.
“Alone, most like,” Caris added, and nodded to the garden. “His student is without.” She felt a flicker of relief at that, for there could be no witnesses.
The Bonded never wanted witnesses.
“I’ve master keys,” Avice said.
They drifted down the hall as if returning to the Queen’s chambers, aware of the eyes on them.
“Never killed a mage before,” Nora said, her eyes getting that special wild look.
“We must be fast,” Avice said firmly. “Do not give him a chance to speak or cast his sorcery.”
“He is chained,” Mira said.
“He is permitted to defend himself,” Avice reminded them.
“These skirts,” Nora muttered, and they all nodded. Not easy to be a swift killer in their cumbersome dresses. They had slits for their daggers, but still it was an issue.
As was the blood.
Memory flared for Caris, of a sweet, hidden kiss in curtained shadows. Her heart hurt with the barest flicker of regret. Halithe, her hopes, her desires—
The need of the Bond asserted itself. “There’s a concealed alcove,” she offered, focused now on the target. “Close to his office.”
“That could work.” Avice nodded as she took the lead.
“We could poison him,” Mira said, then shook her head. “Never mind.” No doubt she too felt the urgency of the Bond. “If it’s to be done, we’d best be quick. Every blow must be a fatal one.” Mira looked at Nora. “Take no risks.”
“I don’t,” Nora insisted.
Caris gave her a sidelong look which Nora pointedly ignored. Her dark eyes glittered. “Iris will be sorry to miss this,” Nora said.
Avice kept them moving along. “Do we know the room?”
“Door at one end, windows at the other,” Nora answered quickly. “Chairs in front of a desk, then his desk chair. Room is lined with shelves that stick out, making good hiding places. Books everywhere and a cage of songbirds on the corner of the desk.” Nora smiled. “He’s old and slow and—”
“Make no assumptions,” Mira scolded as they moved into a new corridor, away from the halls of power.
“We will try the ‘message from the Queen’ routine first.” Avice led the way briskly, now that they were out of sight of the courtiers. “I’ll go in first, Caris distracts, and you two come in fast and low.”
She paused on the stairs. “You might be able to use those chains against him,” she suggested. “That would please the Bonded.”
They all nodded and started up the stairs.
There were no guards posted in this hall, which was mostly lined with small residence chambers. The courtiers who occupied them were nowhere near, undoubtedly busy about their duties. Caris pulled aside the curtain over the alcove.
Nora and Mira slipped in, whispering to each other as they stripped down to their underthings.
Caris stood near Avice, keeping watch on her end of the hall. Her hand slipped into the slit in her skirts, checking her knives.
Avice watched the other way and kept a wary eye on Ritathan’s door. Ever the cool one, was Avice. No sign that her blood was up or that a kill was pending.
Caris bounced on her toes ever so slightly, trying to settle her racing heart. Excitement hummed through her, making the world bright and sweet.
Avice gave her a quelling glance, but her eyes were just as bright.
The curtain behind them shifted. “Ready,” Nora whispered.
“Clear,” Avice set her shoulders back and stepped to the door of Ritathan’s chambers. She rapped sharply with her knuckles. “Mage Ritathan, a message from the Queen.”
“Come.”
Avice opened the door, swinging it wide. She took a few steps in and curtseyed.
Caris followed, stepping to the right.
The room was as Nora had described. The chairs, the desk, the shelves. Sunlight streaming in the windows. Songbirds chirping in the cage on the corner of the desk.
Ritathan stood in front of the windows, dressed in his dark robes, his chains running from neck to wrists to waist to ankles. He was reaching to open one window, a dark outline against the light. “Yes?” he asked over his shoulder, pushing the window wide.
Avice stepped forward, extending a hand, her smile bright. “M’lord, the Queen sends a message—”
Nora and Mira came in, crouched low, moving swiftly, their feet silent on the stone floor.
“What?” Ritathan turned. Caris couldn’t see his face, but she saw the glitter of his eyes. “What is—”
Caris hurled her dagger at his face, aiming for that glitter.
The knife bounced off something unseen, a shield of some kind. That was fine. Her goal was not to strike but to distract.
Ritathan flinched back, raising one hand in front of his face instinctively, his chains rattling. But that glitter grew hard. His other hand lifted, a dark, pulsing glow seeming to come from his palm. “The contract is broken,” he spat.
Nora vaulted the desk, legs straight, toes pointed. She kicked the bird cage as she passed, without breaking momentum. Her feet hit Ritathan squarely, just below the ribs, throwing him back against the glass of the window. The man lost whatever breath he had in an explosive “oof.”
The cage toppled, fell, and burst open. The songbirds screeched and fluttered about, colored feathers floating in the air.
Nora twisted to land on her feet.
Ritathan staggered but didn’t fall. The pulsing glow dimmed for a moment, then flared bright.
Caris froze, eyes drawn to the threat as he reached for Nora.
Mira came in from the side, grabbed the mage’s chains, and yanked them toward her.
Ritathan stumbled, then braced, then surged toward Mira, hands outstretched, fingers spread.
Mira scrambled back, releasing the chains.
Nora leapt, sinking her hands into his robes and using his own momentum to bear him to the floor. She and the mage disappeared from sight, falling behind the desk.
The birds were calling frantically, circling, some already escaping out the open window.
Caris saw Nora’s hand raise, her fist and knife dark against the light for an instant, until it plunged down.
There was a grunt, male, low and pained.
Mira’s blade was out as well. She dropped to her knees near Nora. Blocked by the desk, all Caris could see was the rise and fall of their daggers. All that could be heard were the wet sounds of knife thrusts.
Avice had closed the door and thrown the lock. She stood calmly, watching. “Enough,” she finally said. “Dead?”
“Dead,” Mira said.
Nora stood, breathing hard, a sheen of sweat on her skin, satisfaction written all over her face.
Avice stepped forward then and Caris followed. The last of the songbirds were gone, flown away, and cold air spilled into the room from the open window.
“You might have avoided the face,” Avice observed. “Hard to display the body and claim a heart attack now.”
“Well, his heart did fail,” Mira chirped, and they all chuckled.
Caris felt herself relax at the old joke. “His robes seem to have soaked up all the blood,” she said. “No splatters on you. Even the floor seems clean.”
Nora and Mira checked themselves over then knelt to wipe their blades on the thick cloth.
“Best we take care of the body ourselves—” Avice said but an unfamiliar noise caused them all to stiffen. “What was that?”
The body shifted slightly. Something hissed from its mouth.
“What?” Nora pulled Mira away.
“Back,” Avice barked.
Something dark oozed out, covering the mutilated face. There was a hissing sound as the body twisted. An evil black cloud rose, carrying a foul stench, driving them all back.
Avice ran to the door, throwing the bolt and opening it wide. The warm air of the hall flowed in, creating a draft.
The smoke dissipated, although the putrid smell hung in the air. Mira was retreating, coughing, but Nora was focused on the body. “It’s…melting,” she said in fascinated horror.
Caris covered her nose and mouth and risked stepping closer.
The body was collapsing in on itself, the robes glistening with the wetness of blood and something far more slimy. The entire mass seemed to writhe, forming an oozing, festering pile. The silver chains lay glinting in the mess, which dissolved into a disgusting puddle, bubbling on the stone floor. As the Bondmaidens watched, it dried and dissipated and faded away.
Leaving nothing but the glistening chains.
They stood there, speechless, looking at one another and the floor.
“That was—” Mira grimaced.
“Fascinating,” Nora chimed in. “Even his robes are gone. Do you suppose that happens every time you kill a mage?”
Caris frowned at her, knowing full well her thought. “Don’t you dare kill that blood mage just to find out.”
Nora shrugged.
“Well,” Avice said, looking out into the hall before closing the door. “Apparently we don’t have to dispose of the body.”
Other than the broken birdcage and some shifted furniture, there were no signs there had been a struggle. She nudged the chains with her toe.
“All right, then,” Avice said, sounding more confident, “we need to report. We should take the chains.”
“I’m not touching those things,” Nora said, taking a step back. Mira did the same, shaking her head.
“Fine.” Caris scooped them up. The silvery metal was cool and dry against her hands, the chains thinner and lighter than she’d imagined. She could easily hold them in one hand and hide them in the folds of her skirt.
“We came to deliver a message and found him ill and dying.” Avice said. “Mira tried to aid him, but alas…”
“His heart failed,” Mira said, but the joke didn’t seem quite so funny the second time.
“We offer no specifics,” Avice said. “He gasped, died—”
“And dissolved into goo,” Nora finished.
Avice nodded. “Get your dresses on, then put the room to rights.” She looked at the shelves. “I suppose the King will want all this taken to the library as well,” she muttered. “Come, Caris. Try to keep those out of sight until we reach the garden.”
Caris followed.
The Queen and her noble ladies were all still clustered in the garden, as if no time had passed.
Queen Satia was sitting, a cup of tea in both hands, breathing in the steam. She turned her head slightly as they entered the garden, raising an eyebrow.
Avice and Caris both curtsied. As Caris rose, she shifted her hand to let the chains be briefly visible.
Satia’s lip curled and her pleasure swelled the Bond.
“Avice?” she called, putting her cup down. “You look as if you have news.”
Avice moved forward and Caris followed, basking in the warmth of the Bond, enjoying the glow of satisfaction for a job well done.
Something shifted. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Halithe start, her eyes wide.
For the swiftest of moments, like the trill of a tiny songbird on the wing, Caris felt regret.
Until she saw Satia’s face.
“My Queen, I regret to inform you,” Avice said, the lie flowing from her as smooth as silk. Caris watched in admiration as the Queen’s face artfully reflected her shock and horror at the news as Caris displayed the chains for all to see.
The ladies cried out in dismay, their voices rising. Above the other rose one sincere, anguished cry. Caris was careful not to look around.
Not to see Halithe’s grief.
“What a tragedy!” Satia started to struggle out of her chair. Avice rushed to assist her. “We must plunge the Court into mourning for such a wise and good man, so loyal in his service to the Crown.” On her feet, she started toward the doors, summoning all four Bondmaidens with a gesture.
“Ladies, I must leave you, but let us do him every honor.”
Avice rushed forward to open the doors for her.
“Let every member of my court don black and let any festivities be cancelled. Send word to the King, for we must cancel the council meeting for this afternoon.”
Satia paused in the doorway. “We must also send word to Guildmaster Forterran of this terrible tragedy,” she added. Then, with a twirl of her fur cape, she was gone.
Caris followed, eyes down, silver chains in her hands.